Fathers
by Telera1701
Summary: Raccoon City, November 1991. A baby is on the way and Umbrella's most infamous Wesker and Birkin share a drink in the brand new Underground Facility thinking about family, baby names and impossible futures. Minor spoiler for RE6. Oneshot


**AN: Set in November 1991. Minor spoilers for RE6.  
**

* * *

**FATHERS**

"You can't be serious…"

The way William stared at the other man would have been no different if he were an alien barely landed from Mars. Honestly he couldn't believe what he just heard. He couldn't even try imagining him getting involved into… into _that_.

"I should have known better than to tell you," the other man snorted and got up from the plastic chair, passing a hand through slick blond hair. He was evidently irritated by the younger scientist's reaction but damn, what did he expect?

"Look, Albert, sit down… yes?" William sighted, at a loss of what to say in such a situation. Should he congratulate him? Obviously not. Then again, had Albert Wesker wanted to get rid of the problem he would have done so himself… it couldn't possibly be that he intended keeping it… now would he?

His eyes involuntarily widened at the thought, resulting in a deeper frown on the other's face.

It was unsettling to realize that the almighty Wesker didn't know what to do. His uncertainty was somewhat shaking the foundations of his world.

He'd known him for over a decade and never once he showed even the faintest trace of doubt. He'd known him to be cruel and inhuman, but he soon discovered to be completely fine with that – Hell, he himself wasn't the most sympathetic man in the world. He held no illusion that they wouldn't backstab each other if needed, but he liked to believe that there would be some degree of regret in doing so. All things considered, Albert was the closest thing to a friend, and he knew the feeling was mutual. But then again, it would always be William to rely on Albert, not the other way round. Vulnerable Albert – as vulnerable as a heartless cynical megalomaniac bastard could ever get – was not a sight he enjoyed.

"What about her?" he asked temptatively.

"She doesn't know anything." Practical, as always. Good thing to know that she wasn't a liability to their work… which in between the lines was Wesker's way to say he had no desire to eliminate her.

"Fancy a drink?" He opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a small bottle of whisky and two shot-glasses.

Albert leaned further into his chair and removed his sunglasses in reply. In many years, he'd seen the man without the annoying item just a handful of times (excluding when he was looking into the microscope, of course), and it only happened when he was either extremely worried or extremely tired… right now the dark circles under his eyes spoke a million.

Like it or not, he was just human and William was possibly the only person privy to this fact.

Neither of them was terribly able when it came to dealing with emotions – they were a pair of sociopaths at best – and in all honesty William couldn't say he was feeling for his colleague, but he could see how this issue was genuinely troubling the man. He himself had been there before, although the circumstances were entirely different.

When Annette told him she was pregnant… well… he did consider getting rid of the little parasite growing inside her. Christ, affection could be such a huge handicap in their line of work – and he still firmly believed so.

However, the moment she was born, he knew Sherry was the best mistake he ever made. He would never win the father-of-the-year award, and certainly didn't spend with her half the time she deserved, but he couldn't be more proud of his baby daughter.

At the time Wesker dryly commented that caring was not an advantage, never hiding the fact that he considered the whole 'having a family' business a dangerous hindrance and black-mail material.

Yet here he was. Down to the very same predicament. If it had been about any other person, he would have called it forgetfulness, carelessness, but his old acquaintance was neither forgetful nor careless. Ruling those possibilities out, it could only mean that what happened with this nameless woman happened on purpose.

Could it be love? Good lord, what the hell was he thinking!? The only form of love that man knew was for his persona. The one reason why Wesker could possibly want to reproduce could be found in some sort of extreme narcissism.

"Well… maybe it wouldn't be too bad if you settled down," he said as he filled both glasses.

"What are you talking about...? William, please..." The other man rubbed his eyes and sighted. He looked positively awful.

"Why not?" – _For plenty of reasons, really_ – "I mean, I'm sure you would pull it off nicely. No one has to know what your actual occupation is. You're a master when it comes to hiding the truth." An assertion which was entirely intended as a compliment. "Well, of course you'd have to move. That loft of yours isn't exactly a place you'd want to rise a child in."

"What's wrong with my flat?"

"Nothing. Just saying it's not the place for a child. With all the sharp corners and all that expensive/easily breakable stuff around…"

Albert just shot him an '_are you serious' _kind of look and shook his head. "Next thing you'll suggest I move next doors and that we drive to work together. Seriously Birkin, I see you more than enough here at the labs already, I don't need to have you as my neighbor."

Truth to be told, regardless his recent transfer to the Intelligence Bureau, Albert visited the underground facility more often than it was actually required by his new position. The scientist smirked but kept the thought to himself.

"You should name it Marcus if it's a boy," he teased. Remembering the assassination of their former mentor always made him smile.

"Sure," the father-to-be snorted. "And Alexia if it's a girl."

"Not funny."

Wesker grinned, blatantly amused by William's reaction every time he mentioned the late Ashford prodigy. "How about Jake?"

"Jake Wesker. Not bad."

The other man shrugged and downed his shot. "Maybe…"

"Yeah, maybe…"

Both men sat there without saying a word, staring at the empty glasses, lost in their own thoughts. He couldn't believe they were actually having that conversation. Talking about baby names and settling down…

Eventually Albert's mobile broke the silence and the moment was gone. The Agent straightened his uniform and flipped his shades back on. He was again his usual self, back in character, confident, unreadable cold-blooded Wesker.

"Thanks for the drink, Will." He nodded with a smirk before disappearing out of his office.

"Anytime…"

William looked at the framed picture of his wife with their five year old daughter and a thousand of _what if's_ crossed his mind. He tried to imagine Sunday barbecues with the Weskers, the men talking about work while the kids played in the backyard and the women exchanged advice on schools and recipes, all pretending they weren't working on deadly viruses and testing them on live human subjects.

It was not going to happen and he knew it. It was just a fantasy, but it was a heartwarming fantasy nonetheless.


End file.
